In Other Words


In other words…

We have traveled many roads together
a roadmap of our design tracing earth’s curves
as I trace hers with my touch
along the way picking up parcels of life…
reminders of where we have been, things we have done
and as I reflect
I recall mountains climbed and colors seen
our life taking on the wondrous landscape

With every touch she brings me further back to life
and like the great oak I find
my love for her anchors more deeply…
we are one…
time apart passes like cold molasses through an hour glass as
anticipation grows for our reunion
rituals we have made
sharing ourselves and our time
port shared mouth to mouth, sleeping skin to skin…
she is now a part of me
her voice, her presence, her touch
my salvation
as thoughts of her turn to smiles
and I realize my dreams are a reflection of my life
a life made better.

My cup of life always full
warmth, happiness, comfort, pleasure, love
my life now complete
a long road traveled with many stops along the way
we have walked many miles together
and when we can walk no more
we will sit, and marvel at all we have done…
the autumn of our lives
rich with color.

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Wondering


I wake to see
a peaceful face
surrounded by comforters
in a heavy sleep
and I am happy.

Minutes pass
and I am still watching;
and like the morning sunrise
her peacefulness spreads to me
and brings me warmth.

As if a master’s painting
I cannot look away
and smile as I take in
the beauty of her face…
a masterpiece.

She wakes
and this picture fills with life.
I relish in the thought
that I will be with her this day;
an angel watches over me.

As the day draws to a close
remembering all we have done
I smile again,
and think, what a lucky man
who this woman would have.

The Things We Do


Actions always speak louder than words
all leaving messages
from the flagrant to the finite
from the rough to the gentle
careful we must be when
speaking with our actions.

There is a time when our actions
are thought out and deliberate
leaving little room for misunderstanding…
a show of feelings and emotions.

Searching…
to find those electrodes
setting of uncontrollable pulses
leaving nothing to chance
with intent to please our partners
a show of love and closeness…

The things we do.

The Box


Like a prized possession
I kept it in a shoebox
away in a corner
hidden out of sight…
but without checking
how could I know
that like a fine brandy
it would grow richer with time.

Remembering her
I dug it out
handling it so carefully
blowing off the dust
wondering what I might find inside.
A quick peek
to satisfy my curiosity…
now I am blind.

Like a huge explosion
white light saturates my eyes,
my mind vibrates from concussion,
deaf, I cannot hear
making clear thought impossible
yet I press on
in a callous and thoughtless way.

What damage have I done…

Sight, sound, and thought
slowly return.
I see and understand
what I could not before
and tremble at the thought
that all might be lost.

My thoughts
like a broken record play;
what damage have I done…
what damage have I done…
what damage have I done…

A Bad Mix


I stir the pot of relationship
at a slow speed at first
not wanting to cause further damage
and notice
when I stop
I can still see the layers
that keep separated
the parts of the whole.

And I realize
there is more to blending
then gently stirring things up.

Not understanding fully
the chemistry of relationships
I apply the mixer at a higher speed
wanting to bring things together
into a silky smooth batter, and find
the stirring only conceals the problems
by hiding them in the whole
spoiling the untainted.

Waiting for Winter


Winter gone a few months
already I look forward to its return
those snowy months marked
with cold days and freezing nights
hotter than summer sun

A comforter and flannel sheets
insulation from the cold
as we wrap ourselves together
arms and legs intertwined
bodies against each other

Winter…
so much heat…
hotter than summer sun

John Wayne’s Bobbit


A little something from ’93. A little off-color.
Sung to the “Beverly Hillbillies”

Come and listen to my story
‘bout John Wayne Bobbit
a little ex-marine
with a really nasty habit

He’d abuse all his women
with punches and with rape
when his hand wouldn’t work
he just had to fornicate

Screw that is, jump bones, damn hormones.

Well Lorena said to Johnny
you can’t do that any more
so Johnny boinked her one more time
and threw her out the door

Then he went to sleep
and left his wiener unprotected
Lorena figured no more rape
if Winston was de-neckted

From the body weaned, guillotined.

She opened up the back door
in the kitchen she did sneak
she grabbed a nine inch bowie knife
in the bedroom she did peak

Johnny was a layin’ there
his lizard out in view
Lorena had no second thoughts
she knew what she had to do

One quick slice… very nice.

With his Member in her left hand
and the Bowie in her right
she tugged on Johnny’s Johnson
and beheld an eerie sight

With one quick swipe from Bowie
the evil critter went a flyin’
and Johnny Boy was left there
grabbin’ Stumpy and a crying’

Overnight transvestite.

Well Lorena took the Wiggler
and down the street she did go
cops, paramedics and firemen
were searchin’ for it high and low

They found it in the bushes
and they packed it up in ice
they brought it to the ER
with old John to reunite

Reattach, home at last.

Well the moral to this story
is easy to comprehend
if you mistreat your life partner
She’ll get even in the end

For the doctor sewed and stitched
but found he’d done the job all wrong
for when Johnny gets excited
it don’t go up, it goes straight down.